


b o y f   r i e n d s ; one-shots

by mercurochromekid



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Be More Chill - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, OH MY GOD SO MUCH PINING, PDA, Pining, Post-Squip, Some light angst, and a twink, and jeremy is confused, boyf riends — Freeform, drugs and alcohol mentions, headcanons, i'm not even sorry, jeremy is a theater nerd, maybe some smut, mentions of rich and christine and all them, meremy, michael is hella gay, michael smokes weed a lot sorry, oneshots, some established relationships it depends on the oneshot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-11-13 07:35:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11180055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurochromekid/pseuds/mercurochromekid
Summary: a series of short, feel-good one-shots because i can.send me suggestions if there's something boyf/riends related you want to read!





	1. spaceman

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! i'm still working on HCE but there is a severe drought of jeremy/michael oneshots and i am nothing if not trash for this musical. i'll be updating occasionally but this is taking a backseat to my main fic so like,,, maybe not that often, sorry. also i'm taking most of the chapter titles from songs i like and i'll put the artist, etc. in the individual chapter notes; anyways. enjoy!

It was one of those rare nights when Jeremy wasn't crashing at Michael's place. Final exams, sadly, were encroaching and Jeremy insisted he had to stay home and study. Not that he wouldn't rather be playing video games in his friend's basement and eventually falling asleep on a beanbag chair in a junk-food induced stupor, but it just wasn't in the cards for today.

So Jeremy sat at his computer, in flannel pajama pants and a shirt stained from painting sets for the last school play, trying to focus on finishing a presentation on chemistry but not trying very hard. Science made him sleepy, he couldn't help it. It was already past 11 pm.

Suddenly, his phone sprang to life with an incoming call. _**Player One**_ , read the display, and Jeremy smiled, unfolding his legs from the chair and flopping backwards on his bed, phone in hand. "Hey, Michael!"

There was only crying on the other end.

"Um, dude, are you okay?" Jeremy sat up. The sobs continued.

"Jeremy, you gotta... You gotta listen, okay?"

"Yeah?" His heart was racing a million miles a minute. Michael rarely cried, and when he did, there was usually a big, bad reason. How much weight would I have to start lifting to beat up whoever's hurting him, Jeremy thought?

After a second Michael's voice crackled through the receiver again. "I have to get to the moon."

He was taken aback. "The.. the moon?" he asked, sure he'd misheard.

"Yes, yes! The moon! I gotta, Jer, it's..." He trailed off.

"...Michael, how high _are_ you?"

"Uh, I-- well, very. But Jer, listen!" He'd stopped sobbing.

He sighed, but he couldn't help smiling. "I'm listening. Why do you need to go to the moon?"

"Okay, okay. So like..." Talking seemed to be something of a chore for Michael at the moment. Usually he handled his high pretty well, Jeremy knew, but then again, what did he know about weed? "So I was thinking, about Star Wars?"

"When are you not?" He wisecracked. Michael payed him no mind.

"About Star Wars," he pressed. "It's all in space!"

"Uh huh..."

"And so I realized I should go! I gotta go to space! It's like, my... my destiny, I think! Jeremy, I gotta go to the moon!"

Jeremy glanced at the clock and at his computer. It was late, yes, but he was clearly getting nowhere on his final exam prep, and he was quite honestly quietly freaking the fuck out over Michael. The guy was usually never this inebriated and would probably appreciate someone with him to calm him down. Besides, he told himself, taking care of friends is more important than studying, right?

"Of course, buddy. The moon. You know what? I'm gonna be right over and we'll talk about getting you on the first rocket up there, alright?"

Michael started weeping again, this time tears of relief. "Yes. Good. I love you."

A bit of stagnant air hung between them. He's high, he doesn't know what he's saying; and he certainly won't remember it. But damn if those words didn't send a small chill down Jeremy's spine.

"...I love you too, man. Just hang tight, I'll be right there."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is taken from Spaceman by The Killers.  
> (obviously i don't own this song, nor do i own Star Wars.)  
> also Jeremy is Player Two in Michael's phone and Michael is Player One in Jeremy's :') i am Garbage


	2. french press

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> coffee shop au ; "you come in every day and order the same thing at the coffee shop where i work and though we flirt i'm always too scared to say anything"

"He's late."

"Dude, will you please chill? Hello, yes, ma'am. Sorry. Tall decaf 1% latte!"

"..."

"Michael, I swear to god," Rich huffed, smacking Michael lightly on the arm. "I can't man the drive-thru _and_ the counter _and_ make the drinks all by myself. There's orders on the bar, come on."

The other boy pouted, mostly to himself, and set about steaming milk and pouring decaf brew from the drip. "But what if he's, like, sick or something? What if he stops coming in?"

"Then it was probably never meant to be," Rich responded coolly, barely missing a beat. Michael bristled. Sometimes he envied how fucking casual and in-control Rich always seemed to be, a skill which Michael himself definitely did not possess. After one day of a coffee-shop regular not coming in at the time he normally did, the world seemed totally off of its axis.

Though it didn't help that this certain individual was _so_ regular that Michael had his order memorized (grande triple-shot caramel macchiatto). Nor the fact that he was extremely, utterly cute... and extremely, utterly unattainable.

Still, it was nice to fantasize, and though he often did daydream wish that something would happen between the two of them, making the tall, messy-haired boy his drink every morning was enough.

It seemed to him that months went by in a blur of foam and paper cups and flavored syrup before the bells on the storefront door tinkled and Michael jerked up his head to see him walk in. Relief and happiness flooded through him-- he isn't dead after all!

"Hi," the boy said. Michael grinned.

"Hey, Jeremy. Was starting to think you weren't comin' in," he said teasingly, but his heart was fluttering in his throat. Jeremy was wearing a clearly too-big sweater, and he looked so soft and cozy with his fair falling in his face.

He looked up and flashed a smile. "'Course not. I'd be falling all over myself asleep without some coffee, and no one makes it like you do." Was it Michael's imagination, or was there a bit of a blush on the other guy's face? He reached for a cup and scribbled the regular order on the side.

"The usual, I'm guessing?"

"Uh huh. And, uh. One other thing," he said, leaning against the counter. Okay, he was definitely blushing, and Michael watched him take a shaky breath and force a cocky (but nervous) grin onto his face. "Your number?"

Um. What?

Blood pounded in his ears. This is not real, Michael told himself. He clutched the sharpie in his hand and could feel his face turning as red as Jeremy's. No. It's not real. Wasn't it? The clamor of espresso machines and coffee patrons huddled around tables seemed like a distant roar, and he may very well have stood there like a statue had Rich not slapped his arm again.

"Jesus Christ, man, can you please get a grip? I'm drowning over here," the shorter boy pleaded, putting his headset back on and shooting him an imploring look.

Michael inhaled deeply and shook his head a bit, trying to clear his brain. Jeremy was still staring at him. It looked like he was about to combust, or run away, or both.

"Of course you can," Michael finally hummed. This was what he'd been waiting for! Only an idiot would pass this up, and the expression of relief on Jeremy's face across the counter was both endearing and hot at once. He wrote his cell number on the side of the lanky boy's cup, making sure to make the numbers legible, and slid the finished drink across to him after a few minutes.

Jeremy held the warm cup to his face, taking a deep breath and inhaling the sweet, coffee smell. "...Thanks," he said, grinning up at Michael.

Michael laughed softly, smiling back. "Anytime."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is from French Press by Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever  
> i am a sucker for coffee and coffee shop aus. i'm not even sorry


	3. one song glory

That goddamn red PT Cruiser. Dork, Jeremy thought endearingly as it pulled up to the curb. Michael rolled down the window and drummed on the steering wheel, jamming to some probably-Marley song. "Get in, babe," he said and jerked his head towards the passenger seat.

Throwing his bag in the back, Jeremy slid into the seat. "Hey, bro."

"Jer, must you call me bro? I'm tryna be romantic," Michael said as the song ended. He looked sidelong at the other boy with a faux-forlorn pout. Jeremy rolled his eyes and laughed.

"Fine. Hello, lover, whom I owe my life."

"Better," Michael smiled. "D'you wanna play DJ?" He passed him the aux cord. "Just don't play trash."

"Hell yeah," the other boy said. "Anything to get rid of that reggae shit." Michael scoffed. They'd had this 'argument' before and it always ended with a compromise of blasting some kind of indie music. Jeremy plugged in the cord and unlocking his phone to scroll through his music.

"Wa-wa-wait," said Michael abruptly. "Can you not play an--"

Before he could even finish, the opening song of Book Of Mormon blasted through the car.

_(ding dong) Hello! My name is--_

Michael pressed the off button on the car radio. "I swear to god, dude."

Jeremy giggled. "Sorry," he said. No he wasn't. "I'll play something else." Michael sighed, rolling his eyes and turning his eyes back to the road. The Chicago overture almost made him slam on the brakes in surprise, and Jeremy lurched forward in his seat.

"That's what you get!" Michael cried, part defiant, part offended, mostly joking. "I said you better not play trash, Jer,"

"Book of Mormon and Chicago are not trash," he insisted and held his phone close to his heart like a wounded animal.

"Babe. Do I need to pull a PTA mom and turn this car around?"

"Fine, fine..." Jeremy hummed. "Okay, I'm gonna play something. Just give it a shot, please?" Michael huffed.

"Whatever." A small smirk played at the corners of his lips, which he hoped Jeremy couldn't see but which he definitely did. Some heavy rock blasted from the stereo.

_How do you document real life when real life's getting more like fiction each day? Headlines, breadlines, blow my mind..._

This was good. Much as Michael hated to admit it. "This is musical theater?" 

"Uh huh," Jeremy grinned. "It's called Rent."

"Alright, listen. I'm not a theater nerd like you, and I'm not gonna submit to your agenda, but this is good." the boy behind the wheel flashed a smile.  

"Told you you just had to give it a chance."

They rode for a few minutes, the only sound between them being the original Broadway cast recording. 

"Y'know, I could also show you Wicked, or Hamilton, or Sweeney Todd--"

"Jeremy Heere. I love you, but you're an absolute musical theater nerd."

"I take that as a compliment." 

"...You shouldn't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is taken from One Song Glory from the musical Rent. i'm garbage


	4. tongue tied

**player 1:** _j_ _eremy_

**player 1:** _jeremyyyyy_

 **player 1:** _jer_

 **player 1:** _Jeremy come heere this instant_

 **player 1:** _ha see what I did there_

 

 **player 2:** _michael w h a t do you want dude_

 

 **player 1:** _I wanna talk i'm bored_

 

 **player 2:** _man we're in class_

 

 **player 1:** _so_

 **player 1:** _we're not in class TOGETHER at the moment_

 **player 1:** _I miss you_

 

 **player 2:** _loser_

 **player 2:** _jkjk_

 

 **player 1:** _> :P _

 **player 1:** _you love me_

 

 **player 2:**...

 **player 2:** _yes I do you've got me there_

 **player 2:** _but what the fuck is that emoticon man_

 

 **player 1:** _> :P _

 **player 1:** _it's like :P but angry_

 **player 1:** _like a mad blep_

 

 **player 2:** _michael mell WHAT DID WE SAY ABOUT BLEP_

 

 **player 1:** _to not do it_

 **player 1:** _:P_

 **player 1:** _i'm a slave to it Jeremy let me blep_

 

 **player 2:** _I think the real question is WHY do I love you_

 

 **player 1:** _:P_

 

 **player 2:** _i stg_

 

 **player 1:** _would it make it up to you if I drove you to get sev elev for lunch_

 

 **player 2:** _hmmmm maybe_

 **player 2:** _but you gotta buy me a slushie_

 

 **player 1:** _deal_  

 

 **player 2:** _rad_

 **player 2:** _love you_

 **player 2:** _nerd_

 

 **player 1:** _love you too_

 **player 1:** _;P_

 

 **player 2:** _ahhhhhhH_

 **player 2:** _fuck you_

 

 **player 1:** _maybe later~_

 

 **player 2:** _......_

 **player 2:** _well_

 **player 2:** _if you insist I guess_

 

**player 1:** _ <3~~ _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is taken from Tongue Tied by Grouplove. I got a new laptop that's not my school district's so I can update more often yay but this was quick n stupid idk i had the idea in my drafts whatever  
> also CAN YOU BELIEVE ICONIS/TRACZ CONFIRMED BOYF RIENDS IS CANON AND MICHAEL IS P1/ JEREMY IS P2 IM LIVING


	5. headcanons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not a oneshot, just some lil hcs i've been thinking about. more to come

  * Michael LOVES cooking shows (esp cutthroat kitchen he loves Alton Brown)


  * they watch conspiracy theory videos together and laugh at the absurdity of them but both actually get a lil creeped


  * Jeremy likes coffee after he wakes up cause he's always tired but drinking mountain dew in the morning upsets his stomach. his go-to coffee order is a large triple shot caramel latte


  * Michael has a bunch of fun socks, and not just ones with weed patterns. his favs are a pair with 8-bit style planets and constellations


  * Jeremy doodles a lot in the margins of his papers


  * Michael can't ice skate. Jeremy can. Jeremy can't roller skate. Michael can. they fall a lot


  * they like the comics in the newspapers and pass them back and forth on Sunday mornings so they can both read them and show the other their favorite dumb jokes


  * their favorite show to binge-watch is parks and rec (they would make out during it but it's hard because the show's so funny they can't help but laugh)


  * Michael hates the taste of alcohol and only drinks it with hella mixers (cream soda is his fav)


  * Jeremy's computer is covered with stickers


  * Michael makes Jeremy mixtapes (on actual vintage cassettes of course) for different moods. they all have long, often pun-based names


  * Jeremy had a small scene phase while Michael had a mild emo one. neither of them talk about it on pain of death


  * Michael can sew a little, enough to stitch the patches and stuff onto his jacket or hem something if he has to


  * Jeremy bruises hella easily and LOVES hickeys,,;good thing Michael loves giving em


  * Michael has some stretch marks on his tummy and thighs; Jeremy calls them "badass tiger stripes" and likes to trace his fingers over them


  * Jeremy once stayed awake for almost 3 days because of stress/lack of self-control to stop drinking caffeine 


  * Michael stress bakes


  * Jeremy's lowkey into astrology and checks his horoscope a lot


  * Michael uses Axe products but only the ones that don't make him "smell like a fuckboy"


  * Jeremy is tight with Michael's mom. she makes them snacks a lot and calls him cuyo (cousin) because he's basically part of the family


  * Michael likes popsicles a lot. he's, uh. very good w his tongue



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tbh i'll probably turn some of these into little oneshots of their own idk. i'm real tired and in nyc but i had to Share These With The World so here??have some half-baked mess


	6. just freeze your brain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> did someone say heathers au?  
> (mix of the movie and the musical because I love them both dearly plus some original self indulgent shit)

"Corn Nuts!" came the insistent call from behind Jeremy.

He sighed, turning back around. "Barbeque or plain?"

Chloe rolled her eyes like she was trying to see the inside of her skull. "Barbeque!"

The 7/11 doors opened with a small tinkle of bells and Jeremy ambled inside. The familiar warm fluorescent lights and comforting smell from the abundant mix of artificial products on every shelf wrapped around him like a relaxed hug as he snagged a Red-Vine from the open barrel on the counter. He took his time, and not on accident- Chloe may have been giving him a ride, but it was more than nice to be away from her and Jenna's seemingly endless rants about Madeline.

"You getting a Mountain Dew Big Gulp with that?" said a voice to his right. He whirled around, nearly dropping the bag of salty snacks in his hand. Michael Mell was looking back at him with a measured smile. Nothing was different about his appearance- that same red sweatshirt, white headphones around his neck, hair sticking up in the front- but seeing him in a different light than that of the school cafeteria, Jeremy was finding himself all new shades of smitten.

The other boy may have been a bit of an outcast but damn if wasn't fucking attractive.

So Jeremy swallowed the butterflies flitting around in his diaphragm and smiled in the way Chloe had taught him, a come-hither smile that was meant to charm anyone, and laughed. "No, but if you're nice I'll let you buy me a slushie." This won him a good-natured raise of an eyebrow from Michael, who brushed past him- smelling of some oddly intoxicating mix of weed and artificial cherry and Axe deodorant- to lean against the brightly lit slushie machine. "I see you know your convenience-speak pretty well." Jeremy smirked lightly and bit down on his Red-Vine, letting it tug down his lower lip and noting with pride how Michael's eyes flickered to gaze at his mouth.

But after a moment the boy broke his eyes away and shrugged coolly with a wry, bitter smile. "Yeah, well. I've been moved around a lot. Seems whenever I'm about to lose it, a 7/11's right there. Any town, any time, from Vegas to Boston... keeps me sane. That brain freeze? Better than any drug, I swear." Jeremy nodded and hummed around the candy between his teeth. He couldn't relate in the slightest, having lived his whole life in the same house and never straying far from the East Jersey area, with little exposure to anything close to the real world. The conversation couldn't just stop, though, not when they were actually building up a lighthearted (dare he say flirty?) banter.

"That thing you pulled in the caf today was pretty severe," he guided the subject towards a common thread. "Though I must admit it was satisfying to see Rich get a taste of his own bully-medicine."

Michael held his hands out palm up in a faux display of innocence. "Well... the extreme always seems to make an impression. Did you say cherry or Coke slushie?

With another winning smile Jeremy responded: "I didn't. Cherry."

After he'd paid for the slushie (and those fucking Corn Nuts; what a gentleman), Michael turned on the heel of his sneaker to leave and Jeremy followed a few steps behind, just as he knew he would. Something about this boy made Jeremy feel like he'd follow him to the ends of the earth if he said the word.

"Great car," Jeremy deadpanned upon seeing the shambling PT Cruiser parked close to the store that looked like it could belong to a soccer mom in a downward spiral.

 _Yeah, yeah,_ Michael's eye roll seemed to say. "It's shit, I know. Just a humble perk from my dad's business. You seen the commercials? 'Moving every state to a higher state.'"

"Wait a minute," Jeremy narrowed his eyes, nodding. "Michael Mell... Your dad's Christian Mell Construction?"

With a nod, Michael leaned back against his car and sparked up a blunt pulled from his hoodie pocket.

"...Must be rough moving place to place."

But Michael laughed it off. Smoke curled from his lips with the exhale. "Everybody's life's got static. Your life perfect?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm on my way to Jake Dillinger's Halloween party," Jeremy said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

Chloe leaned on the car's horn and stared at Jeremy with such ferocity she could have been shooting daggers from her eyes. He ignored her.

"No, my life's not perfect. I..." He trailed off and took a drag from his slushie. "I don't really like my friends."

"Uh, yeah," said Michael with a purposeful look at Chloe's car and the girls inside. Chloe had rolled her eyes and gone back to flipping through a magazine in the driver's seat, swatting away Jenna's hands whenever she tried to point at something in the pages. "I don't really like your friends, either."

Jeremy shrugged dismissively and plastered an empty smile on his face. "It's like, they're people I work with, and our job is being popular and shit, y'know?" For all his efforts to seem unfazed by this, Michael could seemingly see right through the facade, and the tall boy sighed. "I can't believe I ever wanted any of that."

Smoke dissipated in ribbons as Michael exhaled slowly and raised an eyebrow, looking up pointedly at him. "Maybe it's time to take a vacation."

"Maybe," Jeremy mused. He chewed on his slushie straw and watched the other boy take another hit off his joint. God, those lips- how good must he be with his mouth, Jeremy wondered.

"Here." Michael's voice snapped him out of his reverie. Between his fingers was a scrap of paper, and upon taking it he saw it was scrawled with numbers. "Get to your party, Jer, but if you ever decide you want a break from the mundane... Give me a call." He ran a hand through his messy hair which only served to deepen the blush encroaching Jeremy's cheeks.

"I-I will," He choked out and smiled, blushing furiously. Chloe laid on the horn again. "Ah. Um, I should probably... Go,"

Michael laughed under his breath and stood up to breach the space between them. Though he was a few inches shorter than Jeremy, the casual intensity that oozed from his every pore made him seem quite a bit taller and more on equal- or higher- footing with the other boy. With a slow swipe of his thumb he brushed an artificial red drop of melted slushie from Jeremy's lower lip. "Get going."

The taller boy grinned. He couldn't help himself. He flashed this last smile at Michael, tucked the scrap of paper into his front pocket, and turned lightly on the soles of his Converse to head back to the car.

"Ugh, it's about time, Jeremy. I swear, if you're gonna flirt with some punk, you might as well do it when we're not on our way to VERY important party. You blow it tonight, dude, and it's keggers with kids all next year." Chloe snatched the Corn Nuts from his hand but he paid her no mind.

After all, with a cute boy's number, she seemed a million miles away and he felt invincible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is taken from Freeze Your Brain from Heathers The Musical ofc  
> this prompt was on my idea list for a while and i've only just gotten in the mood to write it but here!!!  
> also i know rich and jake are in no way ram and kurt and chloe/jenna are in no way heathers but there are only so many characters in each canon to work with? and let's be real, michael is pretty much the polar opposite of JD, so this is all for the sake of an au


End file.
